The First Day of My Life
by Audacity333
Summary: I was lost before I let her in. She gave me her secrets, and I gave her mine. It was beautiful. But how could someone unable to even help themselves save me? I don't know. But she did. Meeting her began the first day of my life.
1. Chapter 1

**First Day of My Life**

Hey, readers, this is my first fanfiction. I've read a few in the past, and hopefully I live up to the legacy that is Harry Potter. Review! I love constructive criticism.

**_Prologue_**

_There's something odd about being a teenager._

_In a teenager's mind, they know all, see all, can do all. But the _trick _themselves into thinking that they're indestructible. That no one can beat them. That they are absolutely fearless. They lie and tell themselves they can handle anything that's thrown at them. That they can stand strong on their own, and face the world._

_Until they meet that person._

_THe person that changes it all, changes them. That person brings them back into reality again, and she'd light on their personality. That person is the constant reminder that they are vulnerable. But that they can always have someone by their side to help them._

_I've seen this happen. Damn, I've _lived_ it. I was lost before I let her in._

_She gave me her secrets, and I gave her mine. Our soul's intermingled and our hearts were shared._

_It was beautiful._

_She was beautiful. I'd never known anyone like her. Growing up, I had never paid her that much attention, but now, it was the complete opposite. She was always on my mind, day and night. She visited me in my dreams, and when I woke up, I knew exactly where I wanted to be._

_By her side._

_But she was just as hopeless as I was. Just as lost as I was. Was it possible for someone unable to even help _themselves _be able to save me?_

_Yes._

_I whole heartedly believe she was the one who saved me from myself. From who I could have become._

_Meeting her was the first day of my lie._

**Chapter 1**: I thought family friends were supposed to be actual _friends._

I traced the forgotten raindrop patterns with my eyes as I felt the rhythm of the wheels turning grow steadily faster until the countryside was just a blur of grey. I sighed, slumping in my seat, looking around at the empty compartment. There were too many of those this year on the train. We barely filled half of the Hogwarts Express, a thank you owed to one infamous Lord Voldemort.

_What will this world amount to if it's driven mad by crazed villains? _I wondered to myself, following the raindrops flying across my window with the tip of my finger.

I turned away from the depressing scenery and grabbed my leather over-the-shoulder bag. I had charmed t so that it would fit almost everything I needed to keep close to me inside. I reached my arm in and tentatively felt around inside, looking for my sketchbook and charcoal.

_Bingo._

I drew out my art supplies carefully, and stared at the blank, crisp new page. A few years back I vandalized my sketchbook and tore off the front and back cover. Now it was a mystery as to where it started and where it ended.

Just like my life.

It seemed new enough, just beginning and open to whatever I fancied. But at the same time, I had no clue as to where it ended. Maybe it was five pages from now, or ten years. Feeling suddenly superstitious, I turned the next page cautiously.

Blank.

For an unknown reason, I breathed a sigh of relief, and began to sketch my view of the hallway and neighboring compartment across the way. It wasn't much, but still it was something. Usually I spent my time sketching one of my friends-Drew or Luna or whoever else was in my usual compartment. But this year I hadn't had time to find them on the train. I quickly gave up on my drawing a few minutes later, deciding in a frustrated huff that it was doomed to failure and a waste of a picture. I stopped short, remembering one of the few bits of artist advice my father had preached before he had died.

_I ran crying to my father, holding my new, shiny sketchbook in my five ear old hands. The page was tearstained and bearing a large, dark X through it. My father knelt down next to me as I tearfully showed him my ruined picture._

_"Ari, what happened?" he had asked, his voice warm and rich, flowing like caramel.._

_"I messed up in my new sketchbook. I'll never be a great artist like you, Daddy," I had choked out between whimpering sobs. He gently took my sketchbook and studied it with a knowing eye._

_With me being a fiver year old, I automatically assumed he would agree with me, and tell me to do better next time. After all, what were a five year old's scribbles compared to an art genius?_

_But instead, he had smiled and turned the sketchbook around so we could both see._

_"You thought this was a mistake?" he asked. Of course I nodded my head, wiping away the steady stream of tears in the process. My father looked me in the eye and his tone became slightly more serious._

_"Ariadne, I don't want you to think that just because at the time it seems like you made a mistake-even f it looks damaged beyond repair-never write it off as a failure. Maybe you'll comeback to it and make it right one day, or look back and realize that the mistake was only disguised as a failure, but was really what the picture needed all along. And if it's neither of those, making mistakes is how we learn, alright? It's the only way we can get better and not make them. Remember those three things, Ari, promise?" I had nodded, and he had handed me my new sketchbook with a ruffle to my head. I flounced out of the room, beaming with this new found knowledge._

It wasn't until years later that I realized he wasn't just talking about art.

I sighed again at the memory of my father, and flipped pages back until it came to the picture I was looking for. A hand drawn, faded pencil picture of a younger me and my alive father, enchanted so that we danced goofily around the living room, me standing on the toes of his shoes. He was beaming at me, and I grinned my five year old smile, and we twirled awkwardly around the page, laughing every so often. In the corner was a note I had read a million times, scribbled in my father's messy handwriting.

_Ari-_

_Don't ever forget_

_that I love you._

_Someone is always_

_looking out for you in_

_the world._

_Love,_

_Daddy_

I fought back age old tears, and I bit my lip and hastily flipped back to today's picture, and beyond to the next blank page. I shoved my sketchbook forcefully back into my school satchel, along with my piece of charcoal that had broken into three parts when I had clenched it too hard. As I zipped up my bag, I noticed the dusty, black finger prints scattered on the brown leather. I groaned, and held my hand up, knowing the answer already.

Covered in charcoal.

I wiped my bag on the seat and set it up on the rack with m clean hand. I paused for a moment to think, then grabbed my school robes. The Ravenclaw emblem grinned at me like an old friend, as I made my way into the corridor.

The cold water splashed up on my ace as I brusquely scrubbed at my hands, my movements jerky and tense. Thinking about my father-my family- made my emotions run hot and cold.

Unlike this faucet. Which obviously only ran cold.

"Damn," I swore under my breath. You would think a couple of wizards could fix one defective, ice cold faucet. I flung the useless temperatures knobs to the right, shutting off the water with one last icy splash. I quickly wrung my hands with the old, faded, rough hand towel, and slammed it down on the rack. Then watched as it plopped tauntingly to the floor, splattering water all over my shoes.

"Stupid..." I muttered, kicking the towel into the dust corner, and grabbing my bunched muggle clothes I had changed out of.

Whatever.

I opened the door forcefully-a little more forcefully than I intended.

"Blood hell!" I heard someone shout rom the other side. All anger vanished, replaced with concern. That is, until I closed the door and realized who I had hit.

Bleach blonde hair, glaring grey eyes, smug smile (which was gone, replaced with an angry scowl at the current moment), sporting brand new Slytherin robes, and as of recent, a large, red bump on his forehead.

Draco Malfoy.

I hadn't seen him for moths, with the brief exception of seeing him and his family on the platform for a moment from afar. He seemed weary and stressed, dark bags encircling his once, bright, grey eyes that used to gleam with a hint of mischievous. Now the were dull with sleep deprivation. Draco seemed more...tense and jumpy. But I wouldn't expect anything less, seeing as what he went through at the end of last year.

He glared daggers into my head.

"Watch where you swing doors, Schuler," he sneered.

"How is this _my_ fault, Malfoy?" I scoffed, giving him my best 'You must be completely and utterly mental' look.

"This is_ obviously_ your fault. You hit_ me_ with that bloody door, you twat!" I raised my eyebrows in mild shock. Twat?

"Pardon me? Watch who you're calling a twat, _Mr. Malfoy_," I sneered tauntingly. He narrowed his eyes menacingly at me.

"Watch where you're _flinging doors,_" he replied, raising his voice a little higher. As if volume would allow him to have the last word in this conversation.

"How am_ I_ supposed to telepathically know when stuck up, egotistical, blonde haired snobs are in the perimeter of swinging bathroom doors?" There actually _was_ a simple spell to see what was on the other side of the wall. But that was besides the point.

"Look what you _did_ to my _head!"_ he yelled, feeling the large goose egg on his forehead tentatively. "You wait until my father hears about this!"

"Your_ father_ happens to _adore_ me, so good luck with getting me in trouble!" I shot back immediately. And it wasn't a lie. Lucius Malfoy and his family were...old family friends, so to speak. I brushed past Malfoy impatiently before he had the chance to come up with anything remotely clever to say.

I finally reached my lonely compartment and sat back. Me and my stupid family issues. Making me hit people with doors. At least it was only Draco Malfoy, that insidious little bastard.

I exhaled deeply and allowed myself to cool off and get my mind off my dysfunctional family.


	2. Chapter 2

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 2: Draco

Title: Back to Hogwarts

"My god!" Pansy shrieked when I walked into the compartment. Crabbe and Goyle stared stupidly up at me, like the idiots they were. Pansy jumped up, examining my forehead. "Are you alright? What happened, Draco?" she touched it lightly with her forefinger. I waved her off, and she stepped back a little bit.

"God awful Schuler swung a door and hit me," I muttered, trying not to make too much of a scene. If I did, Zambini would have a laughing it over me being bothered by someone and something as insignificant as Schuler. As if on cue, he eyes me, a glint in his eye, wondering is I'd venture any closer to the trap.

That bastard. He was the only one with balls enough to try and mess with me.

"Ugh!" I didn't think Pansy could scream any louder. "That _bitch_!"

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," I said, tapping the bump lightly with my wand, feeling the swelling instantly begin to go down. I didn't need someone like Pansy to fight my battles. I could do that on my own, thanks. She immediately sat down, looking dejected. I flopped down casually into my seat, far away from her and next to Crabbe, taking up as much room as I wanted.

"So..." Zambini said awkwardly after coming to the conclusion I wasn't falling for his idiotic, childish games. We sat quietly for a moment.

"I still cannot _believe_ she hit you! No, I can, actually. If I were you," she sent me a stern look. "I'd march right down to her compartment and give her what she deserves!" Pans huffed, crossing her arms. She raised her eyebrows at me.

"That's what she said!" Goyle guffawed loudly, and Crabbe joined in. Buffoons.

"You _idiots,_ that doesn't even make sense," Zambini snapped, head whipping in their direction.

"No, Zambini, see it is," Crabbe said, and I could see the gears turning in his head as he chose his words. I began to tune out as Zambini, Crabbe, and Goyle started yet another pointless row. I turned my attention to the dreary scenery, wondering what Hogwarts would be like under Snape's reign. I could get away with a lot-a lot more than I could with Dumbledore. I mentally shuttered as my mind flashed back to that night.

I recalled trying to desperately steady my shaking hand, attempting to appear brave. Like I knew what I was doing. I remembered trying to rationalize what I was about to do. I had to kill Dumbledore. I hated him being headmaster, as he was an incompetent muggle-loving fool, but did I want him _dead_? Not really. Then Snape had swooped in and killed him in a brief moment that lasted forever imprinted in my mind. He made it seem like it was that simple, that easy. The Dark Lord had been pissed at him, but father had just been glad was left alive. I cringed, then immediately hoped that the others hadn't heard me.

Father.

These days he was getting _completely_ unreasonable. I was glad to finally be away from him. Even if that meant spending another incredibly useless year at Hogwarts. The only thing that kept me attending was the fact that it bought me a little bit more time. For years now, the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters had been bothering my father about me becoming a Death Eater ever since my father let it slip that he had wanted me to join. But by the time I graduated from school, I would be forced to make a decision.

Dammit.

"Draco, what do you think?" Pansy's irritating voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Hm?" I asked. No clue as to what they were talking about.

"Do you think Blaise should go for Alexandra this year?" I discreetly rolled my eyes.

"Zambini can do what he fancies," I answered blandly. Zambini smirked.

"Oh I'll be _doing_ what I fancy, alright," he said crudely. Pansy pulled a disgusted face, slapping him in the shoulder as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered into their meaty hands, but still not quite getting it.

Unlike Zambini, I didn't have time this year trying to impress girls. I had more important things on my mind.

We finally reached Hogsmeade and rode the Threstral-drawn carriages like always. I didn't know what everyone's deal was, but they were especially obnoxious today. We reached the tall, dark gates that Hogwarts hid behind. Two winged boars flanked either side of the wrought iron fence, spiraling up into the dark. I immediately sensed a different vibe about this place. It was darker, stricter, a more ominous foreboding feeling about it than it had when we were first years. It seemed to loom sinister and deadly over our heads, urging us to stay away. Zambini, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and I each stepped out of the carriage as it came to a stop in front of the castle doors. Two rather short people stood in the main hall next to Filch, and I recognized them immediately. A male and a woman, both sporting a menacing, sour look as they eyed us all.

The Carrows.

I didn't know what the were doing here, but I scowled back at them as I passed by. Of course they didn't dare retaliating. Father may not be on the best of terms with the Dark Lord at the current moment, but definitely had more authority over Amycus and Alecto.

Entering the Great Hall, I took my seat at the center of the Slytherin Table, pushing a terrified second year out of my way. She squeaked and took a seat further down the table as my posse settled around me.

The Great Hall was not as it was in previous years. Usually, especially on the first night, it was a warm and inviting place. But tonight, it mirrored the outer side of the castle: dark and strict. The unfortunate kids who found themselves as first years this year stood terrified and shaking in the center of the hall, gazing around. They seemed smaller and more scared than previous first years, dwarfed not by the amount of students, but the vibe of the school. Many students were glancing nervously at the Carrows and Filch, leering quietly from the staff table. The regular professors sat uncomfortably with them, and at the center of them, was Snape, his greasy, filth hair shining in the lowlight of the candles. He swept his eyes over the minuscule amount of students. Usually, the Great Hall was overflowing with students. This year, barely half of the hall was filled. I glanced over at the three other tables as the first ears began to be called by McGonagall to be sorted into their Houses, to which I paid no attention. None of the other three tables had nearly as many students as the Slytherin table, despite the fact that their were more students at Hogwarts that I had ever seen, due to the Ministry of Magic's ruling that it was mandatory for all wizarding children (with Magical blood, not filthy mudbloods) were to attend Hogwarts.

Things were definitely changing at Hogwarts.

Wait.

I searched the tables again. I could spot almost every one of Potter's idiotic followers-but no Potter himself. Or blood traitor Weasel. Of mudblood Granger. Where were they?

Father told me they _had _been present at the Weasel's awful wedding. Were they too cowardly to return to school? Or did Potter and his friends think themselves above it?

I glowered at the thought. But then a realization hit me. This year, there would be no obnoxious, big headed Potter collapsing dramatically in class, or prancing around like he was Dumbledore's happy puppet.

My grin quickly vanished from my face as my eyes found an almost equally unexciting figure.

Ariadne Schuler.

I glared at her, staring her down. She noticed, and rolled her eyes at me, then continued to watch the Sorting Ceremony, turning away.

Whatever.


	3. Chapter 3

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 3: Ariadne

A month's passed since school started. Hogwarts isn't the same as it was back when...well, back when it wasn't taken over by the Dark Lord, like the rest of the world. The Carrows were positively repulsive. They made us practice the Dark Arts on each other, laughing cruelly every time the Crutiatus Curse was used, even permitting certain students to use it as a punishment in the hallways, of course, Malfoy being one of them. Of course, Snape approved. I could tell the other teachers tried their best not to say anything, but they disagreed.

I sighed, glancing around at the cold, dark walls as I stepped out of Transfiguartion. I was met in step with my friend, Drew Campbell. Both from Ravenclaw house, Drew and I have been friends since we were second years.

"Hey," he said, adjusting his books under his arm.

"Hey," I sighed, still watching the solemn paintings as I walked by.

"You alright?" he asked, turning a concerned look at me. I met his gaze.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I insisted, my tone saying otherwise. "Just not much sleep last night." It wasn't a lie. Drew nodded quietly. He knew better than to push any further on the subject. Suddenly, I felt a harsh shove, and my books feel ungracefully to the stone floor.

"Hey!" I heard Drew exclaim angrily, coming to my defense like a protective older brother. I stooped down to pick them up.

"Oh, sorry Schuler, didn't see you there."

I exhaled angrily, staring furiously at my dropped books. There was no need to bother looking up. There was no mistaking that cocky, taunting drawl.

"Malfoy," I said through gritted teeth as I stood up to look him in the eye. I failed miserably. He was a good few inches taller than me. Malfoy tutted, shaking his head.

"You really must learn to control you temper, Schuler. You really are a loose cannon, don't know what will set you off."

"Learn to control my temper?" I asked sickly sweet. I suddenly had a strange image of that cow, Professor Umbridge from my fifth year. Ugh.

"Now you're hard of hearing, I see," Malfoy replied, smirking. By now, a small crowd gathered to watch.

"I'll make you hard of hearing," I retorted angrily.

"That's what she said!" Blaise Zambini obnoxiously called over a few heads. A few kids laughed, but other than that, it was deadly silent. I turned my piercing gaze at Zambini, whipping my wand out and pointing it at his head. He held up open palms in mock surrender. I turned my glowering gaze back to Malfoy's calm, unmoving eyes. I could feel my blood start to boil and turn read hot as he stared back at me.

"Whoah, there Schuler," he said as I jabbed my wand inches from his face. A flash of fear flashed across his face. I went unnoticed by most student in the vicinity, but not by me. I couldn't help but smile.

I probably looked deranged.

But I was so _sick_ of Malfoy and his ridiculous ego. Thinking he was simply better because A) he was a pureblood, B) he was rich, C) his father was in the ministry _and_ a Death Eater, and D) Slytherin girls couldn't keep their slaggy hands off of him.

"Ari, it's not worth it," Drew said cautiously at my side. I held my ground for a moment. But Drew was right. I exhaled angrily, and turned on my heel rigidly, and stormed away. The crowd parted in front of me. I Can't lie. That made me feel a little more like a badass.

At lunch, I was not looking forward to the impending verbal attack from Malfoy. He was too much of a coward to actually duel me, but given the chance, I would rightfully whip his arse in one. As if on cue, Malfoy appeared in front of me, and this time, tagging along was one Pansy Parksinson.

I tried to brush past them, but Malfoy's buffoons, Crabbe and Goyle, blocked my path, cracking their knuckles menacingly. They were idiots, same as their Death Eater parents, but I took more of a pleasure in having a fight with people who had more brains that a parrot.

"What do you _want_ Malfoy," I asked, exasperated. My previous adrenaline and blood rush had been replaced by foreboding and dread. I really didn't feel like getting into a row with him at the moment.

"Too afraid to actually stand and fight, Schuler?" Pans mocked, contorting her already pug-like face into a whimpering frown.

"I don't waste my time with obnoxious people, thanks," I replied coolly ignoring her, but not entirely meaning just Malfoy at the moment.

"Oh really?" Pansy started, her voice rising to a higher pitch. I cut her off before she could say anything more.

"What, Malfoy, too afraid to fight _your own_ battles?" Instead of glaring at me, he gave me a cool and collective smirk.

"You truly _are _witty, bravo," he mocked sarcastically, clapping his hands lazily.

"And you truly _are_ a sniveling git," I replied steely. I clenched my wand in my right hand, feeling my blood boil again. Malfoy's expression faltered slightly.

"You. You think you're so clever, you think you're such a witty Ravenclaw, don't you, Schuler?" Malfoy said, taking a dangerous step closer with each word. He appeared calm and stable on his exterior, but I saw the flash of anger in his eyes. Pansy Parkinson had cautiously stepped away by now, eyeing us rather nervously.

I hoped no teachers were around to see me hex Malfoy.

"Well I've got some news for you," Malfoy stopped less than a meter away from me. "You're n-"

He didn't get to finish before I shot a hex at him. He reflected it faster than I would have thought he would. He retaliated with another one, and I quickly stepped to the side.

Ar-0 Draco-0

This was getting nowhere fast.

"_What is going on here?"_

McGonagall stepped in between us, looking furious. "There is _absolutely_ no dueling in the hallways, and you've been aware of that since you were _first years!_ I am _ashamed_, you two should know better!" she roared, glaring furiously from Malfoy to me and back. She turned rigidly to the crowd of students, eyes burning in anger. "Off to class_, all of you!"_ she yelled, waving them away. They began to scatter and dissipate, disappearing down corridors and into the Great Hall. McGonagall lowered her voice dangerously, looking at the both of us still standing there-dumbfounded as to where the hell she had come from. "As for you two, I would expect better behavior- especially _you_ mister Malfoy. As Head Boy of your house, you have an _example_ to set. You're both lucky _not_ to have detention today (I breathed a sigh of relief) , but _one more_ slip up and you _both_ will have one week of detention. _Have I made myself clear?"_ McGonagall said forcefully.

"Yes, professor," Malfoy and I muttered.

"Good. Fifty points from _both_ your houses." She turned briskly on her heel with a huff and stalked off. Malfoy glared at me. I raised my eyebrows at him, daring him to try something. Anything. two weeks detention was fine with me if I got to watch Malfoy suffer.

"C'mon, Draco, let's go," Pansy said, walking up and pulling Malfoy's arm. He turned away with one last death stare, and stormed into the Great Hall, Parkinson quickly following after him.

They were idiots. The both of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 4: Ariadne

Title: Curses

I sat quietly, doodling on a spare bit of parchment, waiting for the newly named class, Practicing the Dark Arts began. Unlike past years, kids didn't mull around, chatting and laughing before class started. As soon as they reached the classroom, the took their seats and waited for class to begin.

Well, almost silent.

"Hey," Drew whispered, sliding into the seat next to mine. I glanced up, eyeing Amycus to see if we had heard. He was oblivious. I nodded in response to Drew, and went back to discreetly drawing a caricature of Amycus' had.

"Today," he started. All eyes fixated on him. He strode casually across the front of the room, like a snake about to strike. "We will be learning_ respect_."

Well _that_ was a new one.

I knew there were a few confused looks in the class without having to turn to see for myself.

"Like, for instance, respecting your parents, family member, teachers," he walked towards the other side of the room, eying us all. "What is disrespect? Not listening to authority figures, questioning authority figures, and _drawing offensive caricatures of them."_ I froze. "Isn't that right, Miss Schuler?" He trained his eyes on me along with the rest of the class, and I felt my blood turn to ice. Not from any spell or hex or curse-but out of fear. I had been narrowly avoiding having the Cruciatus Curse being used on me since the semester began, but it looked like today was my lucky day.

"You know what is in order," he growled, pleased with himself for catching another "rule breaker". I barely had time to brace myself before the curse hit me. It felt as if I were being stabbed, eaten alive from the inside, boiled alive, pulled apart piece by piece, and on fire all at once. And then some. I was vaguely aware of myself screaming, but all I could focus on was the intense, searing pain rippling through my body. It seemed like eons before it finally stopped.

I gasped as I opened my eyes. I had fallen on to the floor, and my head was throbbing. Drew looked down at me before discreetly helping me up. Every bit of me was shaking. I felt weakened and defeated and vulnerable. My breath was coming out in short, uneven gasps. I gasped up at the rest of the class. They all stared back at me, pale faced and wide eyed.

"I think you've learned a very valuable lesson today, Miss Schuler," Amycus said, speaking as if it had been nothing more than a brief telling-off. My eyes fell on a certain pug-faced girl in the opposite corner. She mimicked me falling and writhing and contorted her face as if she were screaming. Zambini sniggered, half attempting to hid his face from our professor. I couldn't see Malfoy, but I would bet ten galleons he was laughing too.

I couldn't help myself.

I abruptly stood up, calmly took out my wand, and set a bat bogey hex at the pinched faced bitch. The effect was immediate. The class stared silently as Pansy shrieked in horror, patting her face and feeling the damage I had created. I stifled a laugh as flapping wings sprouted from her face, beating wildly.

"Schuler!" the make Carrow sibling exclaimed. "As much as hexes and curses as encouraged in this classroom, there is no reason to hex a student, especially a _Slytherin_, without my consent! Headmaster's office _now!"_ he roared, growing red in the face. My moment of anger had vanished and I was back to my shaky, unstable feeling. With hands weak and fragile feeling, I gingerly reached for my bag and wand, and trying not to collapse, I stood up, and left the room, trying to ignore the stares.

Ten minutes later, I reached Snape's office. I didn't know the password, but the gargoyle grumpily let me in all the same. I found Snap sitting at the Headmaster's desk, greasy as ever. But I was momentarily distracted by all the paintings hanging on the walls. Every Headmaster Hogwarts had ever _known_ were up on the walls. They all looked at me from their frames, probably wondering why I was there. Never in my seven years at Hogwarts had I ever been called or sent to the Headmaster's office. Snape's expression didn't change when I entered. He fixed me with a steel look, and motioned for me to sit down. I shakily lowered myself onto the red, velvet looking chair in front of his desk. He stared me down before he began in his overly-silky voice.

"Aridane Schuler. What is the meaning of this?" he asked, using a condescending tone.

"I hexed Pansy Parkinson," I replied simply, hoping my voice wasn't shaking as much as I thought it was. He sighed dramatically.

"It'll be detention for tonight-writing lines with an available teacher, and your mother will be receiving an owl about this," Snape drawled, clearly bored and unimpressed by the situation. I sat awkwardly in the chair for a moment, unsure of what to do. "You're dismissed," he said formally, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

_Well that was quick, _I thought to myself as I started to make my way back to Practicing the Dark Arts.


	5. Chapter 5

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 5: Draco

I twirled my wand in my hand, leaning idly against one of the corridor walls. In my opinion, still appointing Head Boys and Girls to patrol the halls was _such_ a waste. Under this strict reign, _no_ kid would be stupid enough to try and sneak out. I squinted, trying to make out what was going on down the hall. There was a lit wand rounding the corner. _Maybe I was wrong, _I thought to myself. _Someone _was_ stupid enough to be out._ I strained my eyes a little bit more, choosing to stay unnoticed in the dark. If it was a teacher, fine. If it was one of the Carrows (I shuddered mentally at the thought), I would stay out of their way. But a student...

The silhouette made it's way towards me slowly, and I realized who it was.

Schuler.

I sighed in a bored way, peeling myself off the wall and standing in the center of the corridor, a small smirk growing on my face. There was very little I took pleasure in these days, and irritating Schuler was one of them. I was going to thoroughly enjoy getting her in trouble.

"Oi, Schuler," I called, keeping the excitement out of my voice. She stopped, lowering her wand slightly, causing shadows to dance and bounce off the walls. Schuler's dark auburn hair lay in waves down her back, catching in the luminescent wand light. Her green eyes flashed impatiently as she recognized me, and she crossed her arms haughtily. Our harsh wand lighting casted a haunting look on her normally soft features.

"What."

"You're not supposed to be out after hours," I tutted, taking a step forward. "I'm going to have to alert your Head of House."

"Malfoy, I'm just getting back from writing lines with Flitwick," she said, making an effort to stay calm. It was amusing, really, to watch her like this, and it was impossible to conceal my smug grin. A plus, seeing as it would drive her mad. "Now, if you don't mind..." she tried to casually side-step me, but I quickly blocked her path.

"Detention? With Flitwick?" I queried, giving her my most skeptical look. She rolled her eyes, patience evidently wearing thin.

"Yes," Schuler repled brusquely.

"For what?" She huffed, and re-crossed her arms, wand light dancing wildly around the corridor.

"For hexing your irritating girlfriend today in class," she replied impatiently. I recalled the moment easily, seeing as I had heard of nothing from Pansy except her incident. "Now, an I _please_ get back to my common room?"

"Attitude, Schuler. I'm Head Boy of Slytherin," I warned. "And you must learn to respect authority figures," I mocked. Surely that would break the calm facade she was attempting. We had a duel to finish, and this time, McGonagall couldn't step in.

"I am truly sick and tired of your stupid games. I am not falling for your bait," Schuler said, attempting another side-step. Her attempts were met with no avail. "Honestly, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood to hex your bloody arse. Let me get by," Schuler demanded, raising her voice a little louder, dripping in attitude. _She _thought _she _would beat _me_ in a duel? Fat chance.

"No." Plain and simple. I was going to prove her wrong. She thought she was so high and mighty _just_ because she thought she was smart. Hell, filthy Granger is "smart", but she was also an insufferable know-it-all and a filthy mudblood. She was no one respectable, just like Schuler. When it came down to it, she wouldn't last five minutes. I've been through more horrifying situations than someone like _she_ could ever imagine.

"Malfoy!" she yelled, obviously growing frustrated. "I am not up for your _shit_! Let. Me. _By_._" _she growled through gritted teeth. Her eyes flashed angrily. She was much to easy to provoke. I didn't answer, knowing it would irk her. "Ugh!" she screamed. She plunged her hand into her robes, and whipped her wand out, centimeters from my face. "Move. Or I'll use it," she warned, voice low as if she were actually intimidating. I stared clearly unimpressed at it.

"Oh really?" I taunted. I mirrored her actions, forcing my wand into her face. "I'd like to see you try."

"_Impedimenta!"_

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

I flung myself to the side, the spell racing past me. Schuler had ducked to avoid being hit by my curse. It was a dirty play, but I took it. Hex her while she's down.

"_Stupefy!"_

Schuler rolled as my spell barely missed her.

Damn.

"_Tarantallegra!"_ she shot back.

_"Protego!"_ I shouted, deflecting her spell to the side. Schuler's next one came almost immediately.

"_Densaugeo!"_

_"Protego!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

_"Stupefy!"_

By now, Schuler was back on her feet, panting, and shooting me her strongest death glare. There was no crowd to distract us, and no teachers to interrupt. It was just me, her, and our wand. Tonight, we would know who was truly superior.

"_Furnunculus!"_

_"Bombarda!"_

_"Protego!"_

_"Stupefy! CRUCIO!"_

_"SCHULER! MALFOY!"_ Our heads instinctively turned towards the source, and I tensed, ready to attack. My heart was still pumping adrenaline through my veins like some invincible, golden ichor.

"What-Why-If you-" McGonagall was struggling to get out what she needed to say. I took the borrowed time to glare in Schuler's direction. She glared back. This was the second time our duel had been interrupted. And the second time it had been by McGonagall. What I would have given to have just a little more time to finish the duel. Schuler and I had drowned out McGonagall's now shrill voice as she scolded us for "childish, improper behavior".

_Don't cross me, _she seemed to say.

_Really, Schuler?_ I retorted.

_Need a written invitation?_

_Piss of._

_Is that the best you can come up with? _Schuler raised her eyebrows at me. _Pathetic._

_I wouldn't want to soil your mind, would I Schuler? I know you're delicate, the way you were screaming in Amycus Carrow's class-_

_Try me, you son of a-_

"So both of you will be receiving detention ever night for the next two weeks!" That broke us out of our silent fight.

"What?" we cried simultaneously.

"Professor, you can't!" Schuler pleaded, like the brown-nosing Ravenclaw she was.

"I thought it was merely a week!" I said, forcing my pent up anger towards McGonagall.

"An extra week for being caught out of bed after hours," McGonagall explained, a strained tone to her voice, as if fighting to stay calm.

"But I'm a Head Boy!" I argued in dismay. McGonagall couldn't give me detention for being out of bed after hours when I'm permitted to do so!

"Mister Malfoy, you were given special privileges to be out of bed. _Privileges_. Abusing that power is not tolerated here, as you are well aware of," she said matter-of-factly, pursing her lips as she eyes me. McGonagall turned to address the both of us. "I will alert the Heads of your houses tomorrow morning. Mister Malfoy, you'd best hope you don't get your badge revoked." She gave me a warning glance. "Now, both of you, bed. Now." Schuler and I stood still, perplexed and still soaking in the information. "And I don't want to see anymore dueling between either of you," McGonagall ordered promptly. Suddenly, as if a spell had been broken, Schuler moved. She brushed past me, disappearing down the hall, and I headed down the corridor that lead to the Slytherin dungeons. If Schuler knew what was good for her, she wouldn't step foot anywhere near me again.


	6. Chapter 6

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 6: Ariadne

"I have a question," Drew said, suddenly turning towards me.

"Yeah?" I asked, not bothering to look up. Drew and I were doing homework in the Ravenclaw common room before dinner. Unlike the rest of the school, the common room was one of the few places I felt safe. There were no Death Eater teachers prowling around, no dark, ominous vibe, and best of all, no Draco Malfoy. At the moment, the Ravenclaw common room was a loud, boisterous, warm, and inviting place. The blue banners with their bronze eagles shone brightly, plastered patriotically against our walls. The midnight blue painted dome above us made the house's boisterous conversations seem louder than they actually were. A few first and second years lounged on the stairs going up to the dorm rooms. A handful of fifth, sixth, and seventh years sat attempting to study like Drew and I. A large group of kids were playing a loud game of Exploding Snap over in the corner, while a large gaggle of fourth year girls sat gossiping about who knows what by the roaring, happy fire. The air was warm and friendly, a nice change from the rest of the castle that had grown drafty and cold since the end of October had come around, and winter was beginning to really set in. There was a faint whiff of baking pumpkin pie. For once, it felt back to normal.

"What was Binns talking bout today?" Drew asked, grinning sheepishly. I laughed, playfully pushing him. "Hey, watch the hair," he said, only half joking as he carefully repositioned his dark brown locks. He looked up with a hint of insecurity. "So I look alright?"

"You look fine," I insisted as he gave me a doubtful look. "Honestly, I don't know _how_ you got into Ravenclaw house; you are much too concerned with your appearance, than focussing on intellect," I joked.

"Hey," he said, pointing at me. "I am _gifted._ I'm _special,_" he defended himself, with his always present, wry grin. I snorted.

"Yeah, special ed."

"Whatever, Ari," Drew laughed, waving my comment away. I turned back to my text book in silence before Drew spoke up again. "But all seriousness here, what was he rambling on about today?" I laughed.

"His world renowned pumpkin pie for tonight's feast, if you must know," I answered matter-of-factly. Binns had, in fact, spent much of class boasting about his recipe for pumpkin pie, which bored us all about as much as his lectures on goblin revolts, if not making us a tad bit more antsy for tonight's Halloween feast.

"You're joking," Drew grinned in disbelief.

"Nope," I replied simply, still paying attention to my book.

"So what is this essay supposed to be about?" Drew exclaimed crazily.

"I honestly don't know!" I laughed, finally looking up. It took us a few minutes to calm down. It was rare to have a moment like this, nowadays at Hogwarts. When you're surrounded by fear and strict rulings, you find anything mildly entertaining extremely hilarious.

"Alright, I give up. I'll finish it this weekend," Drew procrastinated, tossing his text book, quill, and parchment onto the coffee table in front of us. I set my text book down as well, sinking back into the blue, fluffy couch. Drew propped his feet up onto the coffee table, ignoring a stern look from a prefect by the fire.

"I can't wait to stuff myself with Binns' pie," I groaned, holding my stomach and imagining the sweet taste of dessert. I peeked my eyes open to see Drew savoring his mental pie too.

"Stop, pie, you're making my mouth water," he moaned, clenching his stomach. I laughed, and he opened one eye to look at me.

"Hello," came a dreamy voice. I looked up to see Luna Lovegood. Her dirty blonde hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves.

"Hey," Drew gave a casual wave.

"hey, Luna," I said. She looked dreamily at us, with her big eyes.

"So have you finally given up trying to beat Malfoy, then?" she spoke as if she were commenting on the weather, not hexing Malfoy into oblivion. Drew turned a quizzical look towards me. I shrugged.

"If I were you I wouldn't," she said, waving something away from her face.

"I don't know. I keep getting detention for it. At least when we were younger, every spat didn't turn out into a full blown duel," I told my friend.

"Hmm..." she said lightly, not giving me a clue as to what she thought. But I was used to it by now. I had known Luna for a few years now.

"Well, at any rate, if you find my radish earrings, it would be a great pleasure to me. Goodbye, Drew Campbell. Goodbye, Ariadne Schuler," and with that, Luna flitted away up the stairs to the girls dorm. Drew turned to me skeptically.

"She's still odd," he noted. I pushed him playfully.

"_Stoppp,_ she's nice, and a good friend," I defended Luna. Lot's of people didn't understand her. She was spacey and floaty and always seemed to have a dreamy expression on her face. But as weird as everyone thought she was, Luna still seemed to be exceptionally nice to most everyone.

"Whatever you say, Ari, I still think she's a little off," Drew shrugged. "So, _are_ you done trying to win a duel against Malfoy?"

"I just told you! And for the record, I _would_ win against that scum if teachers stopped cutting in," I replied haughtily, crossing my arms and pouting. _Trying _to win a duel? Blimey, I'd beat that bouncing ferret's arse into oblivion.

"I know, you're a badass, Ari, no need to remind me," Drew joked, holding up his palms in mock surrender. I let it go, laughing for a bit before either one of us spoke up again.

"When do you think the feast is going to begin? I'm starving," I groaned, trying to change the subject. I didn't need someone or something as unpleasant as Malfoy ruining the one good night I was having all semester. Drew checked his gold watch. It was tradition for wizards or witches that came of age to receive a watch for their birthday. I had one as well, bearing an owl, our family animal, but I never wore it. It was stowed away in my trunk, buried under dress robes and textbooks.

"Right about...now," he replied, grinning up at me. We exchanged glances before wrestling our way through the lazy moving throngs of Ravenclaw students.

* * *

><p>I munched quietly on my pumpkin pie, a slightly bemused look on my face as I watched Drew stuff his face with as much pudding as humanly possible. Everyone had been looking forward to the first grand feast since the first welcoming night. We had hoped that this Halloween feast would be like the ones before it. But we were wrong. All the students and teachers (no matter how ghastly the may be) were in attendance. The food was served on golden plates, and the food was as delicious, per usual. But that was about it. I had brought my sketchbook to draw, but there were no lavish decorations of floating, carved pumpkins, or hoards of live bats flittering around like mad. Even Peeves seemed to be low on holiday spirit, seeing as he had taken to more punishments b the Carrows than any of the students at Hogwarts. Although we all chatted, it was a muted, cautious tone that took hold of us every time we stepped out of our common rooms. None of us wanted to be punished by the Carrows (detention meant various tortures forced to be preformed by fellow students), who seemed to be patrolling the grand hall with their beady, watching eyes. Snape sat in the middle of the faculty table, coolly eating his meal and supervising the rest of us. His greasy hair was slicked back, framing his skinny, pale face and falling to his shoulders. His dark eyes eyed us down his beaked nose, sweeping the hall and making us wary. Even the rest of the faculty didn't seem as merry as they usually were during holidays.<p>

From across the Hufflepuff table, I saw Malfoy scowl when he caught my eye as he held court at the center of the Slytherin Table. _Prince of Slytherins. _Pft. What a worthless title. I glared back, and went back to eating my pie in peace. I was trying my best not to let Malfoy ruin my night, but he just seemed to keep cropping up. And it wasn't the fact that I still hadn't beat him in a duel yet that was bothering me. It was that every time I saw him or he was brought up, it sourly reminded me of the decisions I had to make before the end of this year. And they troubled me more than Malfoy did.

I sighed, staring down into my half empty plate. Things at Hogwarts really weren't the same.

* * *

><p>I carried my sketchbook and my heavy heart as I trudged down the corridor along with everyone else. The feast had lasted shorter than I ever seen, and we were all told to go back to our common rooms to get read and go to bed. I scanned over the heads in the crowd, looking for Drew, but I couldn't spot him. We had been separated b a group of terrified first years, eager to leave the Great Hall, and I'd been searching for him since.<p>

"Watch where you're going, Schuler!" I heard, as I was jostled forcefully to the left. My head snapped up as my sketchbook was thrown out of my hand.

"Malfoy," I warned. I had tried to steer clear of him ever since we earned our two weeks detention from our after-hours duel. But it was like he was looking for a fight.

"Oh? What's this?" he asked, stooping down to grab my sketchbook before I could reach it. I glared furiously at him as he casually flipped through the crisp, white pages.

"Give me my sketchbook back," I ordered. He glanced up from his findings.

"No, I don't think I will, Schuler," he answered. He tutted in dismay. "You call _this_ art? I could do this with my eyes closed."

Draco Malfoy can call me names. Draco Malfoy can tease me about my friends. Draco Malfoy can tell lies about beating me in a duel.

But Draco Malfoy _cannot_ insult my artwork.

"Give it here, Malfoy," I said again, my voice dangerously low. If he didn't in the nest ten seconds, I was going to snap, and he'd be sent to Madam Pomfrey's in a matchbox.

"Oh, Schuler, what's this?" he asked innocently. But I could see the menacing look in his eyes. He reached for the page, tore it out, and held it up for me to see. My breath caught in my throat. It was the picture my dad had drawn. I couldn't disguise my obvious shock and fear-and knew Malfoy had noticed. "Oh, this is sweet," he said tauntingly, reading the note. "But it's not ver good. Honestly, it's a waste of a good piece of parchment..." Malfoy held his wand up to the sheet, and before I could stop him, it burst into flame.

I lost it.

"_Draco Malfoy!_" I shrieked, launching myself at him. He toppled over, causing his wand and the now flaming picture to skid out of his hand. I landed painfully on top, but it didn't matter. I in hysterics, knocking my fists into his chest. "You_ bastard!_ I hate you!" I screamed. With each word, I slammed my fists into his chest. I wanted him to feel the gut wrenching pain that had hit me like a tidal wave. I was aware of the tears streaming down my face, but I didn't care.

My dad was dead.

That was the last thing I had of his.

Malfoy just set it on fire.

I now had to kill him.

I could hear Malfoy yelling incoherent words at me, and there were several attempts either from him, or from the students around us to hold me still or to pull me off, but they were no use. I wasn't fully aware of everything I was doing. All I knew was that Draco Malfoy had to hurt like I was hurting now. But it wouldn't be enough. Never enough.

He would never know how much pain this caused me. No hex, no spell, no curse can duplicate the pain I felt welling up in my heart, taking over my body.

And I hated myself for letting him have so much control over my emotions. Ot was like some sick game that he sadistically got joy out of, like he lived off my unhappiness like a dementor.

I vaguely recall someone gently pulling me off of Malfoy with strong, steady hands. It was a moment or two before I came out of my blinding rage and back into reality.

"Ari, Ari, it's okay," Drew said softly, comforting me. He pulled me into a hug and I sobbed ungracefully into his shoulder. I felt a slight pang of apology for getting his robes all wet. I could hear the muffled ells of the two boys through my tears. But I wasn't focussing on that. I was focussing on the sorrow that was taking over my body. Suddenly I felt Drew's body stagger back a little bit, and I thought for a moment that Malfoy had stuck him, but a second later, Drew coaxed a piece of parchment into my clenched fist.

I glanced to see what it was.

It was the drawing.

Intact, unburned, and perfectly fine. I turned a fiery glare on Malfoy.

"Honestly, Schuler, learn to lighten up, it was just a joke," Malfoy said unapologetically. I glared at him through my tears, my sorrow being replaced by anger.

"Then you have a _sick_ sense of humor," I hissed. He looked me in the eye for a moment, and I saw a flicker of something-regret? Pity? Apology? He stalked off. I turned my head away from the many pairs of staring eyes and let myself cry into Drew's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**First Day of My Life**

Chapter 7: Draco

Slughorn was boring me to death as he explained the importance of what seemed to be a very unimportant potion. They fumes coming off the cauldron up front weren't helping either. I lazily raised my hand.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Slughorn said, pointing towards me. "You have a question?"

"Yes," I drawled. "May I go to the chamberoom?" Slughorn sighed, dejected. As id I were actually interested in this pointless class. He nodded, waved me out, and I quickly got up from my seat. My steps towards the back of the dungeon echoed loudly, hitting the store and reverberated like a weak ghost. I wandered idly down the empt hallway, hoping those unworthy Carrow siblings weren't out and about.

I was pushed violently from the side, my body forced up against the corridor wall, and watched helplessly as my wand scattered our of my hand, landing far out of reach. The painting my head had collided with shouted angrily at being disturbed, and I watched the lady with her dog reappear on another portrait, muttering and giving me a dirty look. For a terrified second, my heart stopped, wondering for an absurd moment if I was going to be attacked by a Death Eater. A wand was forced under my chin, and I was held angrily against the wall by my robes.

"Apologize to Ari," the boy said through gritted teeth. I relaxed slightly as I realized that it was not, in fact, a Death Eater sent to kill me on Voldemort's orders. He was Schuler's friend, the vain Ravenclaw boy.

"Campbell, is it?" I asked coolly, looking him in the eye. He didn't answer. "I apologized already," I complained. "So if you don't mind..." I made an attempt at getting out of his grip. His fist tightened against my robes, and he slammed me into the wall again, more forcefully than I would have expected. I was pushed uncomfortable into the wall, knocking my head back into the picture frame.

"Apologize to Ari. For real, this time, not that damned excuse for one you pulled out of your arse the other day, Malfoy, he warned. I rolled my eyes.

"What are you, Campbell, her boyfriend? Or no? Her puppy dog, then? Covering up a crush?" I taunted. He scowled at me, eyes narrowing.

"Alright, alright, no need to get so worked up about it," I said. He glared at me.

"I'll make sure you stay true to that. If you don't we'll be having a little duel of our own. And I _swear I'll kill you_," he threatened, slamming me once more into the wall, and plunging his wand back into his robes. Like he was actually believed he had the upper hand here. Campbell scowled at me one last time before stalking away, kicking my wand as as he went. I snatched my wand up off the ground, trying to maintain as much as my dignity as I had left. I began to make my way back to potions class, and gingerly felt that back of my head once I knew Campbell was gone.

* * *

><p>I patrolled the dark and sleepy corridors, not really expecting to find anyone. I had recently regained my Head Boy status, but I didn't really care. The only upside to it was that it guaranteed me time alone, away from insignificant people and problems. Time to think.<p>

Father was very persistent, and almost every day I was receiving letters urging me to finally join the Death Eaters. 'It's for your own safety, Draco,' he had written. 'It'll keep you safe.' Unless, of course, I failed to follow orders or decided to back out. Then I would be immediately dead.

Not that I particularly wanted to join the resistance. Blood traitors were a disgrace to purebloods almost as much as filthy muggle borns. Mudbloods were so unnatural. Father and mother considered muggles animals; filthy and dumb (as did Alecto Carrow). They were nothing more than pigs or dogs, savage and vicious. Wizards and witches were obviously superior. So the thought of a witch or wizard being born into a muggle family was unthinkable. The ministry, now overtaken by Death Eaters, thought so too, and were interrogating wizards and witches. They had even screened the witches and wizards coming into Hogwarts this year, thank god. Now there were no tainted blood within these walls, which soothed mother and father greatly.

And even if I _did_ become a rebel, I would be hunted down by Death Eaters from the moment I had refused. There was no way to win, it seemed. I sighed loudly, twiddling my wand between my fingers. A figure brushed past me, interrupting my thoughts.

"Hey!" I called after them. "After hours begins in ten minutes!" They didn't acknowledge me. Then I realized who it was.

"Schuler!" I shouted. "Schuler!" No response. I jogged after her, turning her around. I didn't need that Campbell kid bothering me when I had better things to do, and there was only one way to do that, even if that meant swallowing my pride for a moment. "Schuler, there's something I need to say," I started.

"I'm not talking to you," she muttered, trying to turn back around. stopped her.

"Schuler, stop." She wouldn't stop. "I'm trying to say that I'm sorry!" I yelled at her. Merlins pants, she was frustrating.

"Whatever, Malfoy, go tell your lies to someone who'll believe them," she said angrily, brushing past me. I stared dumbfounded after her. For someone who was constantly making jokes, she obviously didn't know how to take one. How was I supposed to know she was going to have a meltdown over some picture? I shook my head, muttering to myself.

"I tried."

It wasn't until my duties were over and I was laying awake in my bed did I wonder why I had so hard in the first place.


	8. Chapter 8

**First Day of My Life**

Oh my goodness! Thank you for all my wonderful readers and your reviews and follows! Especially xXMizz Alec VolturiXx and CWildeInTheKnight!

Chapter 8: Ari

I sat quietly in the spacious, empty Ravenclaw common room. On these days, I had a free study hall after breakfast that I spent here. I savored every moment alone from the tense, structured environment that lay just beyond the thick, wooden door. The morning sun was reaching it's peak, bathing the castle in cool, winter light. Outside the freshly snow-capped mountains glittered, illuminated. The forest and lawn was covered in a heavy blanket of white, fluffy, un-trampled snow. The bright, peaceful light shone into the large, circular room, reflecting off the moon and star constellations painted on the large dome that was constantly moving to follow the view of space from Earth. Our age-old Ravenclaw banners hung weary, but cheerful, like a distant memory of a happier time.

I scribbled down a few more notes for my essay onto my parchment paper, and went back to searching through my book. But my mind was not on my notes. I sighed, reclining back into the midnight blue sofa, closing my textbook. Studying was useless these days. It didn't matter if I earned good marks or not this year if I was joining the Death Eaters or if I was killed refusing them.

It was already the beginning of December. These first few months had passed in a blink of an eye. Every day seemed like a countdown until the end of the year-but not as it used to. This was a full hearted dread, a sickening clenching feeling in my stomach every time I thought about it. Seven more months.

By the end of this year, everything would change. Not that things hadn't changed already, but my life would be forever different. By the end of this year, I would have to make my decision on becoming a Death Eater, and...

I closed my eyes momentarily, steadying my breathing. I was terrified of either choice. It seemed like either way I lost. It was hopeless.

It was impossible to think about. It was like a whole nother life. I couldn't even imagine it.

I recalled the first moment I had been old enough to truly realize what my mother had done-still tried to do. I was twelve, lounging begrudgingly in one of the Malfoy's many sitting rooms while my mother and Lucius Malfoy recalled their former glory as in-action Death Eaters. Draco, thankfully, had been visiting friends for a brief part of summer vacation, and was not present. I cringed, recalling his failed apology almost a month ago. But as I sat there in their presence, listening to their terrifying stories of Muggle-torture and the era of their Dark Master, I realized who my mother really was: a sadistic, twisted Death Eater. I was shocked at my revelation, and I almost felt tainted or guilt for thinking those thoughts about my mother. As a young child brought up in a usually stiff and formal household, I was taught that the elders demanded the upmost respect, and I was to honor that. I was terrified my mother wold learn that I was thinking angry thoughts about her, and would punish me. I loved my mother, no question about it, just as she loved me But now everything seemed...different, somehow.

And now, I felt the same as I did on that day; petrified of my mother, whom I still loved.

it was terribly confusing.

I thought back to the last couple of years my mother and co. had spent resurrecting the Dark Lord, bending to his will, and trying to kill Harry Potter. I thought back to every terrible deed I had done at their command, every Death Eater I had tortured out of the Dark Lord, every plan I had played a part in. Every memory made me feel filthy.

But I had had no choice. It was do or die. And this was the same thing.

_So do I join-?_

"Oh, Ari Schuler," A dreamy voice called as the thick, wooden door shut, interrupting my thoughts. I jumped, no expecting to hear anyone. These days, taking everything into consideration, I was jumpy and always on alert.

"Luna," I breathed, relieved. Luna stepped into view, a bemused, faraway smile on her face. shifted over, offering her room on the common room couch. She took a seat in one of the wing-backed arm chairs instead, fixing me with her spacey expression, raddish-earings dangling from her earlobes.

"I've disturbed deep thought," she said, examining me like an mildly interesting play. "It's growing smaller in your eyes, oh, I'm sorry." I shook my head, attempting a small smile.

"No, it's fine. Don't you have class?" I asked, shifting my books politely to the floor. Luna watched, still appearing mildly interested.

"Well, seeing as Hagrid's gone, I figured there wouldn't be Care of Magical Creatures for some time," she said. Just last week, Hagrid had fled campus for throwing "Support Harry Potter" parties in his minuscule excuse for a house.

"He was a bit of a joke, anyways," I commented. She shrugged.

"Yes, he was, but he's also a very good friend of Harry Potter's," she said. I'd always found it odd that Luna had befriended Harry Potter and myself, seeing as our pasts stood for totally different things. I usually kept my distance from The-Boy-Who-Lived, or whatever they were calling him these days. I nodded.

"Ah, well," I replied a bit awkwardly. Luna took no notice in it. She was staring out the window, eyes fixed on the mountains. I followed her gaze. A thestral and what looked like it's young soared into view from the Forbidden Forest.

"Life's funny, isn't it?" Luna said suddenly as the older thestral seemed to be helping the younger one to fly. She turned to look at me. I raised my eyebrows.

"Hmm?"

"Life. It's odd, really."

"I suppose," I said. I was expecting some helpful, wise words from Luna. She always seemed to say the things I needed to hear when I was in a dark place. Outside, the younger thestral was struggling to flap it's wings.

"When you live and you're happy, you sort of take it for granted, don't you think?" she queried, returning her gaze to the window. I nodded, knowing it didn't matter that she couldn't see me at the moment. "And it takes something bad to really put it into perspective. We thought past years had been bad-like when Umbridge was here, or when Cedric died-but I think a lot of us are really missing our past years at Hogwarts, now." I nodded humbly, understanding everything she was saying. Luna sighed, training her eyes back on me. She fixed me with her large, blue eyes. "Even out of evil, something good always arises," she said sagely. We sat quietly as I took in her words. Luna, in the meantime, had taken out her Quibbler. A photo of Potter stared out at me from the cover, seeming to echo grimly what Luna had said.

_Even out of evil, something good always arises._

"You know, you're right, Luna," I said fondly, and she looked up, a hint of a smily playing across her face. "Thanks." She nodded warmly, as we retreated back to peaceful, friendly silence. Luna didn't need to talk, and I was grateful for it.


	9. Chapter 9

**The First Day of My Life**

Sorry for not updating sooner; a mixture of writers block and being grounded. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently-just keep looking for my updates! I'm hoping these next few chapters are perfect; I spent forever editing them to make sure they were just right, but if you spot any problems or something that just doesn't sound right or roll off easily, just PM me. I love constructive critisism, so review!

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><p>I stepped off the train into the icy air, and I shivered, pulling my peacoat tighter around me.<p>

All around me, families stood on the platform, greeting their children happily or eagerly awaiting their departure from the Hogwarts Express. My trunk clunked heavily behind me, and I awkwardly searched for my mother. I wandered into the crowd, half on my own will, half pulled into the eager sea of faced. Steam billowed from the shiny train, flooding the top of the platform. As I was jostled from side to side, I realized that despite their excited faces, like their children, the parents seemed weathered and tired. Things in the wizarding world weren't as grand as they used to be, it seemed.

"Ari!" a voice called from nearby, and I was swept into a hug. I stepped back, and my mother examined me fondly, but always poised. She beamed, though, ecstatic to see me back for Christmas Holiday. She seemed relatively the same but she too bore marks of weary lines and dark circles under her eyes, indicating the Death Eaters were also not perfectly well off. I had inherited her wav, dark auburn hair and fine features-a trait usually found in her side of the family. She boasted that it always gave us an air of elegance, beauty, and status. We shamelessly prided ourselves in being an old, pureblood wizarding family of old, pure-blood wizarding money.

But as most people had noticed, I had inherited my father's green eyes and sharp wit, another hereditary tradition of my family. I felt a pang, remembering him, and my brain automatically calculated how many years it had been since I had spent a Christmas with him.

Seven.

I pushed my bitter, old memories away from me as my mother gave me the flustered once over.

"How's school been, darling?" Snape treating you right, as he should?" she continued chattering on before I could answer. "I heard about your incident with the Carrows in Dark Arts-_please_ don't provoke them, Ari." She shot me a look. "So, how was the train ride?"

"Fine," I muttered, levitating my trunk with a casual wave of my wand. "We got held up at some point but I was fine." She didn't say anything, merely smiling at me. "What?" I asked, immediately regretting it. She wouldn't take kindly to my tone. I flinched, expecting her smile to turn to a look of displeasure. But my scolding never came. My mother flusteredly laughed it off, taking my trunk over for me. I tucked my wand away as we struggled through the sea of countless families and bulky luggage. I glanced around for Drew-he had said our goodbyes at the compartment like always, but I wanted to catch a glimpse of him before I left for winter holiday. I craned my neck, seeing a flash of swishy, brown hair.

"So," my mother began. "This year, due to," she gave a small cough. I allowed her a polite glance, incase she was indicating I needed to be paying attention. "..current circumstances, we'll be staying at the home of where Christmas is taking place this year," she continued. I had lost sight of the head I had thought was Drew. I cast my eyes to the floor dejectedly. Honestly, I didn't care about holiday details, it was always the same; at some lavish mansion of a pureblood family with the same stiff people. My mother paused as we stepped through the brick wall and emerged into the Muggle world. I stopped to manually lug my trunk. My mother pulled a disgusted expression, and I was also slightly repulsed by the filthy, lesser humans.

"Dirty muggles. On my way here, one of their young actually came up to me and grabbed my arm," my mother scoffed. "You'd think they'd pick a much cleaner place for the train to stop." Finally, we reached and out-of-the-way spot, out of the sight of prying, nosy Muggles. I was fully capable of Apparating by myself, but my mother took my hand nevertheless, and we were spun into suffocating darkness.

A moment later, our surroundings became clear, and I instantly recognized which house we were at.

"here we are!" my mother said cheerfully. "Malfoy Manor!"

I was filled with absolute dread as my eyes took in the familiar landscape. It was dreary in the cold, winter air. All the trees and shrubs were dark and dead, surrounded by snow. Atop the tall, dark hedges strutted a few albino peacocks. Flurries fell softly to the ground, blanketing anything that sat still long enough. A few topped the wrought, iron gate. it was about seven meter tall and just intimidating as the mansion it guarded. I knew if I spoke any ill-mannered words about this holiday, I would feel my mother's wrath. I bit back my complaints, and quickly followed after my mother as she waved her wand, and stepped through the gate like it was made of smoke. It solidified behind instantly behind us, and I stumbled across the frozen ground, magicking my trunk to follow suit. It seemed like just yesterday I was here-petrified in the face of Lord Voldemort. It had been moments after Harry Potter had escaped the night before his birthday. Voldemort had been furious with the Death Eaters. As a result, it had been mandatory for me to join the Death Eater meetings. I shivered, not entirely due to the chilling wind that had just swept snow towards my mother and I. With every step I took, the impressive manor loomed closer and closer. I tried to count how many windows were on this side of the house in an attempt to distract myself from the sense of dread gnawing at my stomach. Most Christmas's, I could handle their snooty, picturesque facades, usually able to escape their presence in whoever's home Christmas was taking place in that year, but here, I would be forced to be reminded of the Malfoys every second. Christmas's were lonely. The children of the adults here all attended Hogwarts and I had known them for years, but none of them were what I called my _friends_. Malfoy seemed to hold court every get together in one of the spare rooms, and they all seemed to fawn over him.

Finally, we reached the front doors and my mother rapped her elegantly gloved knuckles on the door. I stared, studying the intricate pattern that I had seen hundreds of times in my lifetime, before realizing with almost a jolt that it depicted a gruesome tale of wizards killing muggles whose heads had been replaced by a pig's head instead of their own. The Malfoy crest was the only thing that seemed the same as the last time I had looked at their front doors. Their viewpoint on muggles and support of Voldemort was clearly shown on their own front doorstep.

Almost immediately, the doors swung open, and I had barely a second to brace myself for the mental exhaustion that was dead ahead.

"Rebecca Schuler!" a blonde haired woman greeted us, pulling my mother into a light hug.

"Narcissa, what a pleasure it is to see you again," my mother said politely. I examined the front hall as we were ushered inside. We shed our coats, and they floated off to find the coatroom after a flick of Narcissa's hand.

The front hall was constructed in a prideful, haughty manner. THe ceilings were high and vaulted, and every bit of the structure was beautifully built. Despite recent events and the Malfoy's current position concerning the Dark Lord, the family had gone all out, presumably not wanting to be outdone by the Prewetts who had hosted the Christmas celebrations last year. Baubles hung from the large Christmas tree by the massive staircase. The ornaments moved and shimmered, illuminated in the soft candlelight. I caught a glimpse of mistletoe hanging from a doorway a little ways away, and I made a mental note to steer clear of the tricky, magical plant. Candles had been charmed and they were floating, giving the spacious room an inviting, cozy feel to it.

But whether I had picked up on it or simply because I knew, there was no mistaking the tension in the air.

Narcissa lead us through a maze of hallways and doors that I remembered from years past. I saw a few people scattered among various rooms and corridors. I caught a glimpse of Dolohov and Crabbe drinking in matching armchairs, and a stern looking woman with light brown hair exchanging furious glances with her husband whose name I always seemed to forget.

"Lucius is in the parlor room," Narcissa said, suddenly opening an unremarkable door. My mother and I followed our hostess, stepping into the room.

Sitting in a plush, green, winged back chair by the fireplace was a tired and slightly strained looking Lucius Malfoy. A crazed looking woman, Bellatrix, stood alone by the window, wine glass in hand. She wore a black dress (_hardly_ festive) and her hair lay in a mass of unruly curls about her face. She seemed to have cleaned up since the last time I saw her. And of course, sitting in the armchair opposite of his father was Draco Malfoy. Like his father, he seemed somewhat strained in his effort to keep a polite facade that was failing to mask his obvious stress lines and lack of sleep. In the firelight, his once handsome face seemed even more sallow and sunk than usual. Dark shadows revealed heavy bags underneath his eyes, and I thought I detected a small hint of anxiousness in his grey eyes.

"Ah, Rebecca, how nice it is to see you. And Ariadne, it's been awhile," Lucius said politely, standing up to shake my mother's hand and give me a warm smile. Up close, I could see his tired, stress lines in detail. Voldemort was still taking refuge in Malfoy Manor, but there were rumors that he was abroad at the moment.

"Hello, Rebecca, Ariadne," Bellatrix said not unkindly, giving my mother and I a formal nod. My mother returned the gesture, and I gave a small smile, feeling Bellatrix's intense gaze. Feeling overwhelmingly intimidated, I looked away, but I could still sense her piercing eyes. She was not as fond of my mother as Lucius and Narcissa were.

"Draco?" Narcissa said expectantly, turning her head to face him. Draco stood up, giving my mother a polite smile before shaking her hand. As tradition (and to our displeasure), Draco gingerly took my hand in his and lifted his lips to it in a formal bow. To our families, it was a structured, well-mannered greeting. For us, it was the perfect moment to exchanged hateful scowls at each other. But to my surprise, unlike every time before, Draco did not return my death glare, instead keeping his weathered, impassive expression as he backed away.

I took a spot on the sofa, flanked by my mother and Narcissa. They immediately began chatting about everything woman enjoyed talking about. Death Eater my mother may be, she still enjoyed secret family recipes for homemade tarts and decorating ideas. To me, personally, it was rather odd.

I let my eyes wander, allowing them to land anywhere, purposefully not letting them linger on anyones face for too long.

"School alright?" Lucius spoke up, obviously trying to fill the awkward silence between the rest of the people in the room. His tone seemed polite enough, but I knew he wasn't all that interested in the slightest.

"It's fine," I replied simply, hoping I hadn't come off too terribly rude. But I wasn't in the mood to strike up a conversation with anyone at the current moment.

"Good, good...Snape treating the students alright, then?" he asked, hinting that he didn't think those words at all.

"...I suppose..." I answered quietly. He gave me a small, almost pitying smile. I had the feeling someone's eyes were on me, and I couldn't be sure if it was Bellatrix or her obnoxious nephew. Lucius asked me another question, and unfortunately for me, we delved into polite small talk. I couldn't help but think with a painful sense of dread that this would turn out to be a very long and boring Christmas.


End file.
